Unconventionally Yours
by AntaresPromise
Summary: "That old experiment sounds ridiculous. Thirty six questions claimed to 'make strangers fall in love'", Victor's blue-green eyes gleamed with mockery. "Right?" Yuuri blushed, sipping his scotch (to which Phichit renamed liquid courage). "Let's go try it."
1. Chapter 1: Secretly famous

Katsuki Yuuri was famous.

With the exception of Phichit and his family, nobody else knew the identity of the mysterious, sci-fi writer with the pseudonym Altair.

Katsuki Yuuri chuckled each time he scrolled through the articles speculating his identity. A teenage prodigy, a femme fatale, an old alcoholic, a nerd in his forties who never left his mom's basement. Rumors ran wild, the fanart even wilder.

Yuuri hated the bar, Phichit dragged him today to keep him from sulking.

' _You'd never meet anyone if you don't put yourself out there, you are secretly famous after all, why not let the cat out of the bag though. I'm sure more than enough people would want to date you,'_ he sighed remembering the last words from Phichit before he disappeared to the other side of the bar.

 _Maybe I'll go online or something, I guess I do have my ways with words,_ Yuuri glanced over the shoulder, _this is awkward._ _Where the heck did Phichit go._ He tapped his fingers on the marble counter as he crossed his legs. His fingers closed around the glass of scotch with a spherical ice cube like the glistening full moon.

He never minded being alone, to him solitary freedom is a blessing (just not in a bar though). He missed his giant ceramic coffee mug with constellations studded on it and a cracked edge. He could be sitting with his coffee and writing right now. _Frickin Phichit,_ exasperated, Yuuri thought of one million places he'd rather be than here.

He unclasped the glass because the iciness now bit into his fingers. He propped his chin up on his palm, _maybe I should leave._

Then he jumped at the sound of glass shattering next to him.

"Sorry," the bartender who looked almost underage with emerald eyes and golden hair parted to one side apologized to the tall stranger next to him, "fuck," he muttered under his breaths as he left to fetch the broom.

"It's alright," a gentle voice begun. Yuuri turned and the stranger sitting next to him met his eyes, "sorry if I scared you."

Yuuri shook his head, "you don't have to apologize -" He almost stopped in mid sentence. He couldn't help but stare, silver hair, blue-green irises, starch white dress shirt with the tip button open. _He was fucking beautiful._

Next to gorgeous stranger, a man with a five o'clock shadow in a tailored suit that appeared as if could he could have stepped out of a magazine raised an eyebrow.

"Let me buy you a drink," the corner of the beautiful stranger's lips curled up, "I'll make it up to you."

Yuri's heart leapt to his throat, "no- I mean, you don't have to, really, it's nothing." He wiped his clammy hands on his lap.

"No, I insist," he lowered himself on the stool next to Yuuri, "Victor." He stretched out hand with a wide grin.

"Yuuri," his cool fingertips closed around Victor's palm, surprisingly warm.

"This is Chris," Victor tilted his chin in his friend's direction.

Chris nodded with acknowledgement.

"He's my neighbor since we were in elementary school," Victor continued.

"That's a long time," Yuuri lifted his half empty glass and sipped. _Almost as long as I had know Phichit. Speaking of Phichit, you little shit, where are you?_

"Chris is a psychology professor," Victor turned facing him.

"What about you?" Yuuri couldn't bring himself to meet Victor's eyes. _He is so damn beautiful, I can't._

"He's a jaded doctor who hates people," Chris mocked him.

"Hmm..." Yuuri paused, and tipped his glass. He wouldn't have guess Victor as the type who hates people. Being a writer, weaving together characters' life stories he always enjoyed people watching and imagining what they back story must have been.

"As I was saying earlier," Chris turned to Victor, I am on the fence if I should include this experiment into my lecture. These college kids are definitely going go home and try it."

Victor chuckled.

"What's that about?" Yuuri averted Victor's gaze.

"The premise is to see if it's possible to accelerate the process for strangers to fall in love, there's thirty six questions that two people take turns answering that gets increasingly personal. And the original subjects of this experiment ended up married and invited everyone in the lab to their wedding." Chris swirled his wine glass and emptied it.

"That sounds ridiculous," Victor's blue-green eyes gleamed with mockery, "right?"

Yuuri blushed, sipping his scotch (to which Phichit renamed liquid courage).

"Let's go try it," Victor's hand landed on his forearm.

* * *

Somehow they ended up passing Victor's phone back and forth. Chris excused himself at the first opportunity to prepare for his lecture and promised to send Victor the slides.

"Question one: If you could meet someone famous, who would it be?" Yuuri begun.

Victor touched his bottom lip with one finger, "my favorite writer. Hands down. I am a sucker for sci-fi," He blushed, "but I don't think I ever will because he choose to be in his own world, I guess Altair has his own reasons."

Yuuri almost spluttered into his drink. Grateful the dark ambience of the bar hid the redness creeping up his cheeks.

"You alright?" Victor rested a hand on his shoulder.

Yuuri coughed, "yea."

"Good thing you are with a doctor," Victor's hand returned to his side.

"What do you like about Altair?" Yuuri's palms clammy.

"You read his stuff too?" Victor's eyes widened with excitement, "Who knows if Altair is a 'he' to begin with."

"Um...sort of," Yuuri avoided his gaze.

"Well, where do I begin, no laughing okay? Some of his writing took me out of some pretty dark places," Victor brushed his hand through his silver locks, "I read the second book when I was training to become a doctor, that scene with the Vice Captain flashback where he stood up for himself got to me, I read it during one of my darkest days of residency, and I don't know, it made things better. It led me to realize the suffering is temporary. Sorry, I am rambling."

"I think I remember that scene," Yuuri grinned. He wrote that chapter in a tiny cafe in Barcelona while sitting next to the window sipping a cappuccino and watching tourists stroll down la Rambla.

"Anyways, I would love to meet Altair some day," Victor took the phone from him, "I have a feeling Altair is a man in his twenties, not sure why, my intuition said so, anyways, yes, I confess to be his fanboy, and I am not ashamed of it. Next question: Would you like to be famous? In what way?"

Yuuri leaned back and took a deep breath, "I would want to be secretly famous like your favorite writer, keep the rest of the world from guessing," he chuckled, "Your turn."

"I don't want to be famous, I rather go home to my money," Victor interlaced his fingers, "it's not like being a doctor pays that much anyways, given the context of time it took me to get there. I guess I am on the practical side."

"Fair enough," Yuuri scrolled on the screen with one finger, "what would be a perfect day for you?"

"Waking up after recovering from work, jogging with my dog and walking back with a cappuccino in my hand on an autumn day, and going home knowing Altair's latest book that I haven't started is waiting for me. You know one of those sunny days in the fall where it was just getting cool and the leaves are everywhere? One of those." Victor smiled.

Yuuri blushed. _I can't believe he likes my writing this much._ His heart fluttered. Even his editor Celestino never met him in person. He snuck in as one of the fans at a convention and walked by the booth with stacks of his own books and Celestino grumpily handed out autographed books and telling the fans for the millionth time that he was not Altair. He eavesdropped on fans before out of curiosity, but never had anyone told him that his book became such a big part of their lives, let along this beautiful stranger. He couldn't meet Victor eyes right now, he cleared his throat, "my perfect day, it's not anything special really, a good writing day really. When inspiration is with me and that feeling I get where there's not enough hours in a day for me to put everything down on a page, or when I am outside and I get an idea and all of a sudden I need to find every scrap of paper I can get my hands on like napkins so I can jot it down."

"Wow, you really love writing," Victor leaned forwards, his knee accidentally brushed past Yuuri's.

Yuuri jumped, while heat rose on his face, "so-sorry, I didn't mean to." He scratched his head.

"No, I'm sorry," Victor emptied his drink, "must be the alcohol."

"I do love the fact I get to write for a living," Yuuri presses his lips together as warmth radiated from the pit of his stomach, "I mean, my writing makes enough to support me, buy a few nice things for my loved ones, travel a little." Yuuri's actually made enough from his books that he didn't need to work another day for at least the next twenty years. Before Victor asked him more about his books he clicked on the glowing screen to the next question, "when's the last time you sang to yourself? To someone else?"

"Eh?" Victor rested his chin into his palm, and sighed, "I don't sing to myself, in fact I am terrible at singing. Last time I sang to someone else was when I was a med student rotating through ICU. My thirty something year old patient with lung cancer that spread every part of his body was being taken off the ventilator," his silvery brows knotted together, "his wife bright their two year old and she needed to leave to feed the parking meter. She asked if I could sing to their son because that was his bedtime ritual."

"I'm so sorry," Yuuri shook his head. I couldn't imagine what they have gone through.

"They turned on the morphine drip, I held the kid and sang him to sleep," Victor's eyes glistened, "then his father passed away in peace before he woke up".

"How do you deal with so much death? I guess in your profession it's inevitable." Yuuri leaned forwards.

"It acts as a constant reminder for me to live, because anything can happen at any given moment." Victor stared into his empty glass, "anyways, let's not talk about sad things tonight, what about you Yuuri?"

"Well, I don't sing to other people," he shifted in his barstool, "I um...sing in the shower?"

Victor's eyebrows unfurled and he bursted out laughing, "you don't look like someone who sings in the shower."

"What do someone who sing in the shower look like?" Yuuri picked up is glass, the round ice cube now a quarter of its original size. Then the sound of a cocktail mixer being slammed onto the table interrupted his train of thoughts.

"Excuse me? Are you two going to gawk at each other all night here?" The bartender with a golden mane hissed through an emerald glare.

 _I don't want this night to end,_ Yuuri's heartbeats accelerated. He pulled out his phone, 10:15 pm, and a missed call from Phichit. He decided not to call him back. _And shit! I can't believe I just told someone who looked like that I sing in the showers._

"Sorry," Victor's smile apologetic, "you want to take a walk?" He pulled his grey coat from s hook under the counter if the bar, "I actually hate bars, I prefer coffee shops."

"Sounds good," _that's one more thing you and I have in common._ Yuuri couldn't keep himself from smiling, as he mirrored Victor's motion sliding his arms into his long navy coat along a silent sigh of relief that Victor wanted this night to go on.

"Let me show you the best coffee shop in town," Victor dropped five dollars in the tip jar for the feisty blonde college kid working at the bar, he buttoned his grey coat with long fingers, "I am a doctor, my blood is replaced by caffeine." He grinned.

"Next question?" Yuuri followed him out of the bar.

* * *

 **Author's note:**

This story is based on a real psychology experiment. I usually write stories that are a little dark to say the least, I wanted to try something different.

Let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2: What not to say on date 1

"Do you have a hunch of how you will die?" Yuuri read the next question as Victor propped the tall wooden door to the bar open for him, "morbid question right?" He raised an eyebrow.

Victor chuckled, "this one's easy for me, especially because I work in the hospital and see this all the time."

The door closed behind them, Yuuri wrapped his navy scarf tighter around himself, his breaths white in the February night.

"I would be old, in my chair and reading something, maybe by Altair, if he is still writing, then doze off and die in my sleep." Victor pulled out a pair of brown gloves and put them on.

"Of course he'll still be writing -" Yuuri blurted out, then blushed, glad that the darkness hid his face well.

"Sure, how do you know that?" Victor took a few steps forwards.

"I- I'm a fan of his too, I'm sure he will," Yuuri finished lamely as his gaze darted towards the ground.

Victor laughed, "your turn."

"I don't think about my own death much actually, when that time comes, I wanted to be able to tell myself that I lived, does that make sense? And that at least I have tried to chase my hopes and dreams." He tried to adjust the frame of his glasses only finding nothing there. _Phichit made me wear contact lenses today,_ he realized.

"Of course," Victor led him to make a left turn, at this hour, the few cars drove slowly past them, leaving the soft sound of the tires crushing the fresh fallen snow. He hid his gloved hands into his pockets, "I tell myself that all the time, somehow, I am still a hypocrite".

 _What's something you regret?_ Yuuri thought of asking him that but decided not to pry. He scrolled down on his phone for the next question, "name three things you and your partner appeared to have in common."

"This one's easy," Victor pulled his hands from his pockets,"we are hopeless Altair fanboys, introverts, and we have no problems going to a restaurant or watching a movie alone."

Yuuri inhaled sharply and his heart pounded in his ears, _I can't believe this man, this fucking beautiful man like my writing this much._ He restrained that smile creeping up his cheeks. Dizzy from happiness, he cleared his throat, "we both like dogs, cappuccinos and from the fact that you are this awake and inviting me for coffee at this hour, I make the inference that you are a also a night owl, just like me."

Victor laughed, "that's very insightful, yes, my job title is a 'nocturnist'. The doctor who works night shifts at the hospital."

"How often do you have time off?" Yuuri's brows knotted together, "that sounds intense!"

"I work for seven nights and gets seven days off afterwards, then repeat," he shrugged flashed Yuuri a smile that didn't reach his eyes, "I got used to it after a while, in the beginning it felt like being permanently jet lagged. The money is good, I need to pay back my student loans, this job certainly helps." His face blank.

"Are you happy though?" Yuuri blurted out. A dog barked in the distance.

"Hmmm, I am going to have to think about that one," Victor's hands now tucked back into his pocket, "we are almost there." His eyes lit up again as they turned into a smaller alley. Beneath their feet, the road turned into cobblestone and the buildings narrower. They entered the old part of the city untouched by civilization as if turning back one hundred years in time and anticipating a horse drawn carriage to pass by.

They stopped before a small shop that Yuuri wondered if it used to be a tavern. He glanced at the flower box outside the window covered by a fresh layer of snow. _This place must be lovely in the summer,_ he imagined this street, a secret gem hidden from the tourists weaving in and out of this oceanside city. The wooden door retained its ancient glory, unfazed by time.

Victor pulled the elaborate dark handle for Yuuri, "after you," his voice soft.

The crisp bell of the wind-chime rang as they entered.

Yuuri inhales the aroma of coffee as warmth surrounded him, "I like this place already." His eyes met Victor's. _This hole in the wall must be this city's best kept secret. If I start writing here, maybe I'll catch him on his days off._

"Wait till you try their coffee," Victor's bright eyes reflecting golden flecks from the fireplace, "Hi Yakov," he nodded at the old man in a grey apron behind the counter sifting through coffee beans.

"Vitya," the old man with a serious face that looked like coffee meant serious business greeted him like an old friend, "the usual for your off days?"

"You know me too well," Victor laughed.

"And for you?" Yakov raised an eyebrow, "he never brings anyone here," he tilted his chin in Victor's direction.

"I-I'll have what he's having," Yuuri reaches for his glasses again out of habit then realized he wore contact lenses today because Phichit insisted.

Yakov reached for the cabinet containing mugs various shades of beige.

The wooden floor creaked beneath their feet, as Victor led him to two seats by the glass window.

"Let me guess, you drink black coffee without sugar when you work, am I right?" Yuuri unbuttoned his coat and swung it over the back of the simple wooden chair.

"How did you know?" Victor mimicked his motions and sat across the table unable to control his laughter.

"Well, I do write for a living, sometimes I look at strangers passing by and in my head I play this game with myself where I guess their back story. I wonder what their favorite food is, where they are going, are they happy. I guess it's a strange habit of that comes with my profession." Yuuri rubbed his hands together warming them then pulled out his phone, "which leads us to the next question, spend four minutes and tell your life story."

Victor peeled off his gloves and tucked them away into his coat pocket, "alright, here goes."

Yuuri blushed when Victor's knee brushed past his under the table. _He is so damn gorgeous up close._

Victor shifted in his wooden chair, "there's not so much to tell. My parents died in a car crash when I was young, I only know what they look like from photos," he blinked, his blue-green gaze on the ground, "my aunt and uncle raised me."

"I'm sorry," Yuuri leaned forwards.

"Thanks," their eyes met again, "they are honest, hard working people, and the best thing that ever happened to me," Victor pressed his lips together, "I always wondered the reason they never had children of their own, when I asked my aunt, she would always respond, 'we've got you, that's more than enough'".

Yuuri leaned forwards.

"As I grew older, I realized my uncle worked two jobs to pay rent and put food on the table and to save up for my aunt's dream of opening her own bakery. I used to be terrible at school," Victor reached for the twine coasters and laid one in front Yuuri then himself.

"Really?" Yuuri's eyes widened.

"I hung out with the wrong crowd for a long time when I was in high school, got suspended for stealing cigarettes from the gas station. Talked back at teachers," he pushed his silver locks to one side in a poor attempt to hide his embarrassment, "until one day, one of my so called friends screamed something at me, to which I am grateful for till this day, because that was my wake up call."

The floor boards creaked with the sound of Yakov's footsteps as he left them with a nod and two mugs of steaming cappuccinos.

Yuuri lifted the lid of the glass jar with perfectly stacked brown sugar cubes glistening from the light from the fireplace and dropped one into his mug, "What did he say?"

"He was one of the older kids, he told me that _'you are nothing, you'll never become anything,'_ " his eyes narrowed, "I was so angry but it took all of my restraints to not knock the wind out of him, because I knew if I get suspended one more time, this school will kick me out."

"I'm sorry — "

"No, I am," Victor rubbed his neck, "this is not something I'd share with a stranger." He laughed stiffly, "maybe it's the alcohol, or this silly 36 questions game. We can stop if you want to."

Yuuri reached for the his hand out of reflex, "no, go on."

"That's when I never picked up a cigarette again. I started to realize how much it must've hurt my aunt and uncle each time the school called," he sipped his cappuccino, "I remember the first time I got an A on a test, my classmates were whispering that I cheated. Then nobody said anything when I did it the eighth, ninth, tenth time."

Yuuri's face lit up.

"I supported myself through college, and when that letter for acceptance came for medical school, that was the first time I saw my uncle cry," his blue-green eyes bleary for a split second, "I am the first in my family to go to college. What he doesn't know is, besides paying back my student loans, I have been saving up —"

"For your aunt's bakery," Yuuri completed his sentence, "that's wonderful."

Victor flashed a smile that made Yuuri's heart skip a beat, he drank his cappuccino, "enough about me, your turn."

"Alright, my life's story is simple, my parents and sister run a hot spring resort in a small town in Japan," his then realized his hand rested over Victor's and it never left, "I had a pretty happy childhood, I read a lot, and I was kind of a loner," he chuckled, "my dad collected books and I read anything that I could get my hands on."

"Simple is good."

"I used to think something socially is wrong with me when I rather bury my face in books that to go out. Then I realized the more grown up I am, the less I cared about what others think. Don't get me wrong, I do have a small circle of close friends who drag me out from time to time, and for me, that's more than enough."

Victor grinned, "residency taught me to grow a thick skin and not give a shit what others think of me. As long as the patients are taken care of, I didn't care if I sounded like a complete idiot in front of the specialists."

"Who would have thought not giving a shit could be so liberating," Yuuri picked up his mug and grinned.

"How did you know you wanted to be a writer?"

"I have been telling stories all my life, it comes naturally," He blushed, "there's no secret to it, but to keep on writing, my first published novel was rejected over twenty times until my current agent helped me clean it up."

"Your perseverance is amazing," Victor's fingers intertwined with his.

 _I need to change the topic fast, before he asks me more, aside from Phichi, and my immediate family, I have never told anyone that I am Altair._ "Anyways, next question," Yuuri scrolled through the screen, "is there something you wanted to do for a long time, and why haven't you done it?"

"You know, I have been thinking about this for a long time when I had a rare quiet night at the hospital," The finger of Victor's free hand travelled to his lips, "I started reflecting why I became a doctor in the first place. I have always wanted to go on a medical mission trip, to help people who are fighting to live. And I haven't done it because, well, my student loans, saving for my aunt's bakery."

"But that's an ongoing process right?"

Victor nodded, "my lifestyle hasn't changed since I was a resident. I think a few more years of living frugally would be enough to pay back my debt and the deposit for my aunt's dream shop," he blinked through his long silvery lashes, "Your turn."

"Well, this is not exactly something I'd say on the first date," then Yuuri's face burnt, "oh shit, did I just say first date, I meant to someone I met for the first time —"

Victor let out a short laugh, he kissed the back of Yuuri's hand, "this is a date if you wanted it to be. Or you can blame everything on the alcohol, how's that?"

"Okay," shivers ran down Yuuri's spine, _he did not just say that —_ , "it's a date," he blurted it out then kicked himself inside.

The corner of Victor's lips curved up.

"So, I write under a pseudonym, and I have always wanted to meet my fans," Yuuri pressed his lips together, "I don't have one or two fans, there's maybe more than that. I have always been afraid that I would disappoint them. I rationalized this to myself in the way that staying anonymous is a type of freedom, but I get so nervous in crowded places and sometimes I forget to breathe, does any of this make sense?"

Silence.

"If I was your fan, Yuuri," Victor's eyes resembled the most beautiful ocean in the world, "no matter what you are like in person, I would continue to admire you just the same. But I also would want to meet you when you are ready. It makes perfect sense." He squeezed Yuuri's hand.

Part of Yuuri wanted to pinch himself to confirm that all of this real, and not a scene from his imagination out of this world.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

I had fun with this, creating Victor's back story. He seems distant in the original story, like something sad happened in the past.

Watch the ending animation for No. 6 before you read the next chapter (it's a beautiful song & you'll see the reason when you read the last chapter).

So I lied about this having 3 parts, there will be 4.

Let me know what you think!

* * *

Re: Reviews:

MissMJS: thanks so much, this was fun to write! Welcome back. This is my attempt at writing something cute and non-angst.

midnightsky0612: thanks for reading! You'll see...


	3. Chapter 3: Sincerely, Altair

They wandered down the cobblestone sidewalk in the secret alley, where no cars could fit.

Warmth filled him from the cappuccino like he never had before. _I don't want this night to end._ Yuuri stole a glance at the gorgeous stranger next to him and sighed, his breath pale against the night.

"Where were we? Ah, here," Victor pulled out his phone, "what is your most treasured memory?" He blinked away the snowflake from his eyelashes.

Without hesitation, "after being rejected almost thirty times, finding an agent who finally said yes to my manuscript of a book that was in my head for the past decade," Yuuri's grin widened, "that night my family got together, my mother made my favorite food, katsudon, or pork cutlet bowl."

"That sounds delicious!"

"Yes I'll take you to try it sometimes," then heat crept up Yuuri's face realizing he just asked Victor for a second date.

"Looking forward to it," Victor's lips resembled a heart.

"Your turn, best memory," they crossed a bridge overlooking a frozen lake.

"When I finished residency, the final stage of medical training before I am able to work independently as a doctor," Victor pushed his hair back.

"I heard that's a long road," Yuuri tucked his hands into his pockets.

"Seven years flew by like that," Victor snapped his finger, "my aunt and uncle came to graduation, and Chris did too. I saw my aunt and uncle wiping their eyes as I walked at the podium. I worked part time while studying for the first four years, then ran around the hospital for the last three, I couldn't believe it was really over. Chris and I drank till dawn that night," Victor chuckled, "he told me I should start seeing people and that I have been neglecting my personal life for way too long. I laughed it off at first, but the more I thought about it, my psychology professor friend has a point. But it was tough during residency, imagine arranging for a date one month away."

"To people who don't understand how your schedule works and the nature of your work, I can see how that can be mistaken as disinterest," Yuuri empathized, "your family must be proud," Yuuri stole a sideways glance, not able to breathe for a second. Victor's cheeks flushed, snowflakes in his hair. _I can't believe this beautiful man is telling me his life's story._

"It started rough, but I think I turned out alright," Victor shrugged.

They passed rows of stores by the waterfront, and imagined its liveliness on beautiful cloudless April days.

"'What does friendship mean to you?'" Yuuri thought of Phichit as he swiped the screen for the next question.

"You know, during training I was terrible at keeping in touch with people. After working 12 straight days and not seeing the sun, all I wanted was to go home and pass out," Victor reminisced, "But friendship means someone who cares enough to check whether I was alive or not, I think," Chris' face flashed before his eyes, "Chris used to drag me out by force. And I remember this one time I dozed off on a park bench while Chris went to buy food from the street fair. I woke up two hours later while he sat next to me with his nose buried in a book. He didn't wanted to wake me up."

"You must be really tired," Yuuri stopped before a playground.

"Yea, that was after a month of working overnight. It's strange to see all of my friends from high school and college work, go on vacation, start families, meanwhile I am a medical resident. Makkachin must be lonely," Victor followed him towards the swings, "enough about me, your turn, on friendship."

Yuuri brushed the layer of snow from the swing, "Well, when I was a kid, I was always envious of those with a large group of friends. Phichit was one of those. We were neighbors and walked home together," he crossed his feet at the ankles, "long story short, he was popular, I was socially awkward, I still am. But I made peace with it, and I guess that's a part of growing up. When I stopped caring about the opinion of others, I have to say, that's liberating."

"You are not socially awkward," Victor's feet left the ground on the swing next to him, "you are fine to me."

Yuuri blushed, "when I studied abroad, and Phichit was busy with art school, we messaged a few times in a year. But when we met up again, it was as if nothing changed. I realized I didn't need all that many people in my life, to have one person like Phichit, is more than enough for me."

"Agreed," Victor gripped onto the chains fastening the swing.

"'Make 3 'We' statements,'" Yuuri pocketed his phone.

Victor rested his index finger on his lower lip, "we love dogs, we are night owls," he smirked, "we enjoy each other's company."

Yuuri's heart leapt to his throat, glad his cheeks already were flushed from the cold, "that's what I was going to say."

Victor threw his head back and laughed, his hair like twilight.

Neither of them wanted this night to end.

"'When did you last cry in front of another person, by yourself?'"

Victor's blue-green eyes transfixed to the distance, the faintest lines appeared between his brows, "I had a young patient that I took care of throughout residency. He usually came for his routine physical exam one week after his birthday and I wished him happy birthday when he was 47, 48 and 50. He was full of life, he told me about his travel plans, his recent marriage, and how much he loved his job. Two months later he was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer. I watched him fade away, and in the end, he didn't want anymore treatments and decided to go to hospice, where he would be kept comfortable," Victor shut his eyes, "he told me he still had so much he wanted to do with his life. Before we parted, I gave him a hug and I left the room with tears in my eyes."

"I'm sorry. You must experience so much death."

"I do, it's the nature of the job. I often wonder when it is alright for doctors to cry in front of patients. But I was in this man's life for three years, and to watch him fade like that," he paused, his gaze in the ground, "it makes me think that anything could happen, really, that I could die tomorrow and would I have any regrets then? Can I say that I lived?"

"I ask myself the same thing," Yuuri interlaced his fingers around Victor's.

"Your turn," Victor squeezed his hand.

"Well, this is embarrassing, last time I cried in front of other people was when I got the phone call that my book will be published. And the last time I cried by myself," Yuuri pursed his lips," I was writing the epilogue of my next book, one of my characters finally found the happiness she deserved after everything."

"You cry more when you are happy," Victor observed.

"I guess I do," Yuuri scratched his head.

Victor stood up from the swing, Yuuri followed him, "'tell your partner one thing you like about him,'" he read the following question, "can I say everything?"

Yuuri couldn't control the corner of his lips curling up, "I like your resilience."

"Resilience, I love that word," Victor stepped closer, "'be the wildgrass in the wind, to bend, not to break', that was one of my favorite lines written by Altair."

"I remember that line." Warmth spread through Yuuri's body, his blood whirling and buzzing with happiness, "shall we move on to the final question?"

"'Share a personal problem and ask your partner's opinion on it. Alright, here goes. I have been thinking about my job as a night shift doctor. I took it because I needed the money and I was also running away from things. I didn't need to run any family meetings, or call social workers. Residency worn me out, and I feel like I have forgotten why I became a doctor in the first place. I know I have student loans and to save money for my aunt's bakery, but I have always wanted to go on a medical missions trip like I promised myself when I sent in my application." Wind sent a few wisps of silver before his face.

"I think you answered your own question, Victor."

"I think you are right."

"As for me," Yuuri edged closer, "my fans and even my agent always wanted to meet me. But I have doubts that I would fail to meet their expectations. I know this sounds irrational, but —"

"I'm sure they will admire you no matter what. And you will meet them, when you are ready. At the right time, in the right way."

"I like that."

More snowflakes drifted like feathers from the sky.

"Wait there's one more page of instructions," Yuuri's screen glowed pink, "'look into each other's eyes in silence for four minutes'".

Victor bursted out laughing, "what is this, the next cheesy romance movie?"

Yuuri chuckled with him.

"This had to be the strangest experiment I have ever done," Victor stood straighter, "we have gone this far," he set a timer on his phone, "you ready?"

Yuuri faced him, "I am."

Seconds turned to eternity. At first they couldn't help but shudder with silent laughter.

Yuuri noticed the small imperfections on Victor's face, the asymmetry of his silver brows. Then he transfixed the image of himself reflected from Victor's ocean like orbs. A happy version of himself, his eyes bright, cheeks flushed, vibrant, alive, in the right place where he belonged.

The second minute passed.

They lost track of space and time, as if nothing else was in the universe.

 _I want time to stop._

For what seemed eternity, Victor's alarm bright them back to earth.

"I don't know why I am telling you this, I have known you for," he glanced at the golden hands of his watch with a midnight blue face, "four hours, this experiment really is something," Yuuri tilted his chin up, the rest of the world dissipated into irrelevance. "Somehow, I don't think I'll regret telling you the truth...I am Altair."

"I know." Victor's cheeks and tip of his nose a hint of pink.

Yuuri's heart leapt to his throat, "what? how?"

"I can't explain it, I just do," Victor's cool fingertips stroked the side of his face, "I have been the biggest fan of yours since your debut. I waited in line time and time again hoping you would appear to sign an autograph for me. I heard your agent say for the millionth time, 'I am _not_ Altair'."

"Maybe I am less discrete than I thought," Yuuri grinned.

"It's going to be dawn in a few hours," Victor raised a silver eyebrow, "can I see you again?"

"Of course," Yuuri answered without hesitation.

"Goodnight Altair," Victor leaned closer, and tipped Yuuri's chin up, "May I -"

Yuuri nodded, not needing him to finish asking for his permission before closing the distance between them. Victor's lips brushed past his, soft and cool, he tasted like mint.

Victor flashed a smile as if saying _'your secret is safe with me'._

 _I could get used to this,_ "Goodnight Victor."

Yuuri wanted more.

Of course he wanted more.

He would go home with Victor if he asked tonight, but he preferred to wait. He wanted to walk with Victor hand in hand in the fall with autumn leaves swirling around them like in silly romance movies. He wanted to take their dogs to the park together. He wanted Victor to the first one reading the draft of his next book, perhaps even inside a bathtub. He wanted to fill in the gaps of all these years before they found each other.

 _Good things are worth the wait._

He wanted Victor slowly.

"See you Saturday morning?" Victor's cool fingertips brushed against his cheek.

"See you Saturday morning," Yuuri echoed.

Snow drifted as millions of feathers from the sky without a sound covering the world with a blanket of softness.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

Hope you enjoyed this story!

Okay maybe there's some angst in this chapter (I know, I promised not to write angst). I'm sorry.

Epilogue to follow, with perhaps a pleasant surprise or two.

Much love,

-A

P.S. there are more of my work on ao3 under the same user name, including ratings that I am not allowed to post here.

* * *

re: reviews:

MissMJS: thanks so much! This is my attempt at not writing angst. Hope you enjoy this one. I still don't know if I am fully capable of writing fluff lol

sleonard: thanks for your kind words! Hope you enjoy this one!


	4. Chapter 4: The First

_Question 14:_

 _Is there something you've dreamed of doing for a long time?_

 _Why haven't you done it?_

* * *

The first time Yuuri found something he wasn't suppose to find in Victor's apartment, Makkachin led him there. He sat crosslegged next to her on the grey rug, his back against the couch, while Victor disappeared into the kitchen. The corner of a sketchbook brushed past his hand.

He hesitated for a moment. _What if he didn't want me to see?_ Curiosity won in the end. _Just a sneak peek then I'll put it back like nothing happened._ Yuuri thought with a sly look.

He opened the faded cover, his lips parted. Because _his_ characters filled Victor's entire sketchbook. He couldn't wipe the grin off his face as he flipped faster. They started off as simple pencil sketches, then becoming more elaborate. The proportions off at first, but over time every line became calculated and precise. Then towards the middle, Victor added colour.

"What are you doing?" Victor returned with two smoothies in his hands.

"You drew fanart of my books! These are amazing," Yuuri gasped as he flipped through the pages, "I can't believe how much your skills improved."

"Yea, I got better," Victor blushed a light shade of pink, he left their drinks on the counter, "okay, now this is getting embarrassing, give it back — " he laughed as he leaped towards Yuuri.

Anticipating Victor's move, Yuuri chuckled and ran with it, almost tripping over Makkachin, "no."

Victor's arms locked around him, pinning him against the door, "real mature, Katsuki."

Yuuri shuddered in silent laughter.

* * *

The first time they made love, they were in a wooden cabin deep in the forest while a storm raged outside.

Even though they couldn't venture the trails Victor spent days planning beforehand, neither of them minded.

Victor rained kisses over Yuuri's eyes, the tip of his nose and his Cupid's bow before lifting him onto the dresser, knocking a stack of notebooks onto the ground.

Yuuri laughed as he slid his hand beneath Victor's soft sweater.

Lighting flashed from outside of the window as the raindrops splattered against the roof as if someone poured buckets of water non-stop.

Deafening thunder rumbled. Victor hesitated.

"Were you afraid of the storm?" Yuuri kissed his neck.

"Of course not," Victor whispered.

"If I had to guess, you were as a kid," Yuuri chuckled as Victor's fingers undid his top button.

"You know, for being a writer of your caliber, you are really good at what not to say during certain moments," Yuuri's white shirt fluttered to the ground, as Victor's soft silver locks brushed past his cheeks.

Yuuri laughed, "I know."

"Maybe when I was really young, thunder bothered me, just a little. There. Are you happy now? Now that you know everything about me," Victor caressed Yuuri's bare chest.

"I can read you like an open book," Yuuri tapped his nose, pressing their foreheads together. He bit Victor's bottom lip, his breath accelerating, with every kiss more demanding and desperate than the one before.

Victor's eyes widened as Yuuri carried him to bed.

* * *

The first time Yuuri told Victor he loved him, he traced those words onto his palms in a coffee shop. He didn't need to say them out loud.

"I know," Victor teased him, "thank you".

"You are unbelievable." Yuuri grumbled.

Victor later wrote the same words onto his back from the bathtub they shared.

At midnight, Victor woke up for a glass of water and he found Yuuri's notebook opened to the first page. He gulped, trying to hold back his tears because in Yuuri's had written, "For to Victor, who lit my sky with stars."

* * *

The first time Yuuri asked Victor to stay by his side for good wasn't over a candlelit dinner by the ocean. In fact, they slept under a mosquito net on a clammy summer night.

Earlier that day, Yuuri wiped beads of sweat from his forehead as he returned to the medical tent. His back no longer ached from carrying crates of disaster relief supplies. He insisted on accompanying Victor on his first medical mission trip after quitting his job working as the nightshift doctor.

From the corner of his eyes, he caught a glimpse of Victor pressing his stethoscope against a old woman's heart. He nodded and her face broke into one thousand wrinkles.

"I'm exhausted," Victor shifted on the hard bunk bed, "but I am so glad that I came." He rested his head against Yuuri's shoulder.

"Hey, I have been meaning to ask you," Yuuri's hand slid under his pillow, searching for something.

"Hmmm? Ask me tomorrow?" Victor pouted as he draped the back of his right hand over his eyes, his nose buried in folds of Yuuri's soft blue shirt.

"You sure?" Yuuri's smile mischievous as he and flipped over onto his stomach.

"No, I'm not sure, fine, what?"

Yuuri leaned closer, the tip of their noses almost touching. He opened his palm revealing a golden ring, "Victor Nikiforov," he watched tears flood from those wide blue-green eyes, "will you wear this for me?"

"Yes, one thousand times over." Victor held him tight.

* * *

The first time Yuuri asked Celestino to meet him in a cafe, his agent almost cried from happiness.

On Yuuri's website, a video appeared, Victor recorded it in their kitchen by the window under bright morning light. Lined up the sill was a row of succulents in pots of various shades of beige. Yuuri mocked Victor for being the plant killer only capable of raising the cactus.

"Hi everyone, my name is Katsuki Yuuri, or I am better known by my pen name, Altair." His grin widened because while recording this Victor flashed him a stunning yet private smile meant for him alone, "it's nice to meet you."

* * *

They didn't want an elaborate wedding. Rather they preferred for friends and family to donate to charity in their name.

However, to Phichit's fierce persistence, they settled for a small gathering. Phichit seemed more enthusiastic to plan everything than they did.

"You might wonder why the two best man are combining their speech into one," Chris grinned at Phichit, knowing the struggle for him to keep his mouth shut, "Phichit had been keeping this secret for the past two years, and it's killing him."

Laughter rippled though the crowd.

"Shall we put set him free?" Chris' one of the few people capable of pulling off a magenta suit.

Phichit snatched the microphone, "Katsuki Yuuri, all I have to say is, you are welcome."

Yuuri tossed him an innocent look, Victor squeezed his hand.

"You too Victor, you have no idea how hard it was to drag out this introverted, socially questionable writer who rather wander in the mountains of a foreign country alone than ever set foot into a bar. And how much planning it took Chris and I to plant the right seed into your thick skull."

The crowd held their breath.

Yuuri's lips parted, while Victor covered his mouth from the realization.

"We set you up." Chris smirked, interlacing Phichit's fingers within his from behind the podium, "after Phichit ditched you at the bar, I brought up that psychology experiment on purpose."

"I can't believe it you bought it, I suppose all of the stars did align that night," Phichit's face lit up, through glistening eyes he continued, "Yuuri, I am happy for you, really. You are my best friend and I love you." He glanced at Victor, "not like that, don't worry," he chuckled, then with a more stern look, "Nikiforov, he can be clueless sometimes with real life stuff with his head in the clouds. I am handing him over to you now."

Victor wrapped his hand around Yuuri's waist.

"You better take good care of him, or else you have me to answer to." Phichit finished.

"Thank you Phichit, I promise."

Surrounded by everyone they loved, their eyes met, they no longer needed words anymore.

Yuuri and Victor smiled.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

This story is based on a real psychology experiment that has 3 sets of questions, each getting more personal and the original subjects did end up falling in love and ended up married.

To my readers since the beginning, I'm sorry if Demon Song and There Is made you cry, I hope this one made up for it. Let me know if you want to see happier stories like this one!

To my new readers, so, I usually write angst with happy endings, this is me trying something completely different. I hope you enjoyed it!

Much love,

-Antares

P.S. I am trying to get better with writing, still in search of a beta who could be critical and to catch my grammar mistakes. I would love it if you'd join me.


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